Black Hart

Gradsul by Twilight

Chapter 15 - Revelations

Eloi winced. "You are right the time has come to take action, but we are severely outnumbered and by the time we get assistance O'Shad and the others could have escaped."
"I also don't want the towns Mareschal's involved. Remember we are expendable to Thoggin. Do you really think he would vouch for us if the Mareschal's asked us exactly why we had apprehended these men?"
He grinned "I have a cunning plan. If we could lure them into the Doors of Drawmji we could efectively capture them. My Torture Chamber is in need of some guests. They would effectively be captive in the Doors and would not be able to leave without my presence. That might loosen their tongues and get them to spill the beans. if not a little gentle persuasion might do the trick."
"The problem is how to get them inside. One or both of us is going to have to lure them in. However we must act fast. What do you think?"
Standing stiffly by the door, Akhan had listened impatiently to Eloi. The half-orc's doubts about involving the Mareschal rather deflated him - he realised that they probably wouldn't be wise to rely on such a figure. The Tringlee Mareschal had excelled in suspicion and not much else as far as the brief encounter with him had revealed; and it would be just their bad luck if they found a similarly paranoid fool here in Gradsul. Instead of rounding up the Brotherhood agents they might just find themselves mouldering in a dungeon.
Time was running out now, measured perhaps in the tiny pattering footsteps of a wererat, and Akhan was desperately keen to be doing something, anything other than standing around here waiting to be ambushed.
"What does it matter which side of the Doors we're on? We'll still be outnumbered! They're hardly likely to just step through politely and wait for us to lock them in are they? Look, don't you realise that these must be the same jokers who tried to kill the King. They summon demons, disappear into thin air and kill their own people at the drop of a hat."
His mind being completely devoid of any smart ideas for the moment, Akhan silently formed a request to Olidamarra. This little venture would be a whole lot more likely to succeed with priestly assistance and Akhan hoped Kyros might just find his way there, Olidamarra willing.
"Come on then, at least let's move away from this spot. If that was a wererat in those clothes then this is the first place the rest of them will come looking." Akhan began to move to the right of the doors leading into the arena, along the curving passageway running beneath the bleachers. "They must have some reason for bringing that lead here," Akhan continued as they crept along. "Let's see if we can find a way up into the stands to watch what they're up to."
Eloi nodded, putting a hand in front of Akhan to let him go first. "We should get out of here and I would rather have a better view of our target than wait here to be discovered".
Both men jumped as a mound of straw in front of them leapt up, swinging a sword blade, which painfully glanced off Eloi's armour. The man-rat who attacked him drew back his arm to strike another blow.
Akhan's instinct was to run, and it was fortunate that his reaction was to turn, for otherwise the blade that bounced off his armoured back would have surely impaled him. Behind him too stood another rat-man, also ready to continue the fight.
Akhan almost jumped up in the air, more than surpised at this attack. As the rat-man moved in to continue the assault, he yanked Kagnstir convulsively from its scabbard and threw the edge of the great blade hurtling towards his enemy's throat.
Eloi let out a chuckle, and shouted to Akhan as he drew his dagger, "Well, I guess they got the jump on us. We'll have to fight our way out of this, but we will have to be quick. I don't want O'Shad or our Scarlet Brotherhood friend to get away."
Akhan's racing heart dropped as Eloi started to blather on and even mention O'Shad's name though. Now these two knew that he and Eloi were no ordinary intruders. "Oh well, they'll be dead soon," he thought hopefully to himself.
As though choreographed, both men easily dodged their opponents' next clumsy attacks, striking home with success on the riposte. There was almost a look of shock on their hideous rat-features at the injuries inflicted on them. With fleet moves, obviously outclassing the ratmen's clumsy shuffles, both men attacked again before they could recover, and with dull thuds both wererats slid to the ground, dead.
As they recovered their breaths, they listened intently, but could hear no sign of any further commotion or anyone coming to their now-human attackers' aid.
Eloi smiled at Akhan "Don't look so worried."
He looked at the two dead bodies at their feet. "Well, that shortens the odds. I suggest we seek out O'Shad and the Scarlet Brotherhood scum. I am all for this spy business, but sometimes sheer brute strength and ignorance is the best way forward."
Eloi continued on his merry way down the passage, as if without a care, searching in the dark for a passageway or door that would take them to the terracing. He felt somewhat better now that all the decision-making had turned to action. About a hundred yards down the passageway he found a set of double doors to the right, like the ones Akhan had gone down leading to the arena and the terraces. Opposite those doors, to their left, was another set that undoubtedly led outside.
Akhan stooped quickly over the bodies of the were-rats and shuddered briefly before rifling through their belongings. Didn't do to pass up on opportunities like this; he steeled himself for the touch of another one of those disgusting Hands which they'd found on the other were-rat. The grisly business done, without any reward, he scurried after Eloi.
Eloi looked towards Akhan. "Well, perhaps its time for the triumphant heroes to make the entrance to the arena? Our only option is the doors out or the doors in. I vote for the doors in. Which is it to be old buddy?"
Akhan pulled a sour face. "Doors in it is then. But let's keep it quiet just the same. No need for us to go charging into the arena like the intermission clowns, eh?" He replaced his sword in its scabbard and joined Eloi in their walk towards the arena doors.
Eloi quietly opened one of the doors and immediately he could hear someone speaking. Slowly the duo moved out into another tunnel, the end of which they could see gave access to the terraces above.
They soon saw the two men speaking, Akhan viewing them for the second time. They stood between them and the cart, with four guards still standing about, apparently relaxed and confident that they were not being watched.
Listening carefully they honed in on O'Shad's speech, and could just hear him over their heartbeats.
"...but we are doing everything to rectify it. This latest twist from our masters," he said, tapping the cart," makes it all the more difficult for us and ours. The jade we can easily obtain and deliver here, but the jet we must purchase. If only they had been content to have us pay in real gold, but that choice is not ours. Still, Gelders is not willing to make the direct payments for the jet in fake coins - they might be traced back to him too easily. So you are to help distribute this out, making a return of about three-fourths brother, to be returned to us for the payments. Another month and the gate will be completed, then we can get back to some real living."
Both men nodded as though pleased that their task would soon be over.
Eloi made a swift gesture to Akhan in thieves' cant that it was time for them to leave. He started slowly back towards the door from which they had came.
He had a lot to discuss with Akhan and in particular wanted to  rendezvous with Smokelight as soon as possible. The wizard would surely know the magical significance of Jet and Jade. Eloi also did not like the use of the word 'gate'. His mind cast back to the events at Axewood Palace and the summoning of the demon. This 'gate' could only be bad news.
Eloi's plan was simple - Akhan would track O'Shad's brother, whilst Eloi would endeavour to tie up the loose ends in the city. Like, where the feck was Kyros? They also had to know what 'business' trip O'Shad's brother had planned.
Akhan listened to Eloi's suggestion. "Well we better try and hide those bodies before they all leave then - they'll be very wary about heading straight back to their safe house if they know someone's been sniffing around the arena." He motioned for them to head back to the dead were-rats. "Come on, if we chuck them in a dark corner they might not miss them for a little while."

As Adar entered the warehouse, which was a tall and dark building as he might have expected, a warehousemen went to walk past him then, seeing his questioning look, paused.
"Up there," he said in reply to Adar's questioning.
He pointed to a flight of rickety wooden stairs that led from the left of the entrance, up two storeys to a platform and hut of sorts that seemed to be the office. It looked as though it were suspended in mid-air, and he was glad for a moment that he was not scared of heights.
After creaking his way up the stairs, an experience he was not looking forward to on the way down, Adar stood on the platform outside the office 'hut'. There was a window, with a blind half-drawn down, and he could see it was lit by a lantern within. All that he could view was a large wooden desk, with various papers and writing instruments thereon, the chair behind it being empty. A man's voice boomed out from within.
"...nonsense like this going on in our patch, I'll not be having that whore-lovin' bastard runnin' me fer a dunkle," the voice yelled.
As Adar listened in interest, he saw through the window as a portly man walked over to the desk and sat behind it. As he sat down, Adar realised he would be seen and made to walk for the door, pretending not to see the man. He knocked firmly, and just as he finished the door swung open.
Within he could see another man, dressed much like a bodyguard would in these parts - he reckoned another stood behind the door, having opened it for him. At the desk sat the portly man, dressed in moderately fine clothes, with a large goblet of wine in his hand.
"Halykk Mandrennin?" Adar asked, still outside the door.
The man cracked a beaming smile.
"In yer come, man. If its Halykk yer seekin', here I am. What can I do fer yer?"
"I'm looking for an aquaintaince of yours" Adder replied. "A priest of Olidamarra who goes by the name of Sablefist. It is very important that I speak with him as soon as possible."
The man seemed genuinely puzzled and shook his head as he beckoned Adar to take a seat. As he stepped into the room he could plainly see the second bodyguard, who closed the door.
"I know nobody of the name 'Sablefist'," Halykk said. "And I certainly know no Olidamarran priests, though I revere their faith endlessly."
The man chuckled as though amused by his reference to his drinking excesses.
"Perhaps our mutual friend is known to me by another name - you might tell me more, Mister...?" he said questioningly.
"Perhaps you know him by his real name, Kyros Telliran" Adder continued with an inquisitive glance. " I was led to believe he was staying with you. Of course, I could be wrong." Adder frowned slightly.
Halykk pushed up his bottom lip and continued to shake his head.
"I have two people staying with me, friends of mine, but neither are of that name," he continued. "Of course, these are strange times and it would not surprise me to learn that either were using an assumed name. Could you describe this 'Kyros Telliran', and perhaps a companion if he has one?"
"This priest is running around with a half-elf who wears an eye patch. I don't know what name he might be using, though I know of him by the name Akhan." Adder's grimace tightened. "It is very important that I contact this Kyros as soon as possible."
Halykk smiled.
"Vesic has two names, then," he said dryly. "No matter, I am sure he has reason. I have a fair idea where they are. But I have no idea who you are - I fear revealing my friends' location to a total stranger. If you are mixed up with their business here, I have been helping them and am aware of their situation - they have not, however, mentioned yourself. Once I am satisfied you are friendly to them I will let you know what you seek. What do you call yourself, and why do you seek my friends?"
"Perhaps you could spare a piece of parchment and something to write with?" Adder inquired. Adder began to write on the parchment, and when finished, he folded it and handed it to Halykk. "If you could please get this to Vesic, I would appreciate it. If he or any of his friends wish to meet with me, I shall return here near midnight of tomorrow. If they wish to contact me earlier, have them leave a message for Thammaster at the Golden Anchor using a third party."
Halykk agreed, and Adar then bade him goodnight, glad that the merchant did not seem to question the secrecy which surrounded his actions.
Quickly he returned to the Golden Anchor, where the barman, whom he gathered was named Bradar, gladly agreed to keep messages for him, in return for a small 'retainer' of course.
Adar sipped on the warm brew that passed for local ale. It was much weaker than the northern Keoish beer, which he preferred, and barely palatable, but he chose not to point this out to the barkeep - else his future prices might inflate suddenly and unexpectedly.

Once satisified the bodies were stashed Eloi went to leave the arena, but Akhan caught hold of his sleeve.
"I'm going to stay in here and see what the other Scarlet bugger gets up to. You never know - they might have a bolt hole somewhere within the arena itself!"
Eloi whispered "Okay, I will retrace our footsteps back to the bridge. Hopefully I will come across our wayward friend Kyros. Once at the bridge I will rendezvous with Smokelight at Gelder's house, if that is where the second cart went. Hopefully Smokelight will be able to confirm the significance of Jet and Jade. We will meet up again at the Inn."
Akhan nodded quickly in response and added, "I'll aim to be at the Inn by mid-morning. I'll try and send a messenger if I need to keep my eyes on them." With that he bade Eloi farewell and flitted off into the shadowy tunnel. He was intent on returning to their latest vantage point and continuing the surveillance.
There was a smile playing on his lips now. The fragments of conversation they had overheard were all very interesting (if a little alarming) and he was beginning to suspect that the arena might indeed be one of the Brotherhood's safe locations. Why else would they cart a large horde of counterfeit coins here if they weren't intending to hide it away? And hadn't O'Shad said something about delivering the jade and the jet here?
Round and round in his mind the questions whirled but he could make nothing of it at the moment. Perhaps inspiration would strike. He turned his thoughts back to the purpose of the fake coins. O'Shad had told the rat-faced runt that he was to distribute them out. Who to? And how? Presumably the return of three-fourths was some sort of rate of exchange of real coins for fake. Maybe.
He suppressed it all for the moment though and concentrated on his sneaking. Akhan returned to the tunnel just in time to see O'Shad walking back to the first entrance, half way across the desolate race track. The guards remained with the ratfaced man.
Once O'Shad was gone, he addressed the four guards and the cart driver.
"Take it through there," he ordered, pointing to a dark area of the terraces across opposite Akhan, where he presumed there was another entrance. "I'll get the others out to help us unload."
With that, the man put a hand to his mouth and emitted a long, shrill whistle. The cart began to trundle off to the other side of the racetrack, accompanied by the four guards. The ratfaced man then wandered over ten yards towards Akhan, and knelt to the ground. As Akhan watched, he pulled back some sort of plate from the ground.
He then leaned forward into the hole beneath and let out another whistle, this one not so loud as it was directed downwards, before returning to his feet. The man looked around in all directions as though waiting for something.
A strange tension came across Akhan's shoulders as he waited in the unnerving silence, staring avidly at the hole in the ground which this Brother had revealed. Interesting! Maybe there was a nice comfy nest for rats down there. However, the realisation dawned that the two were-rats which Eloi and he had just dispatched were exactly what this bugger was waiting for.
He groaned inwardly. All he could hope for now was that this wouldn't provoke a full-scale search - if they found the bodies then they might just decide to 'up sticks' straight away. But there was no point worrying about it too much - there hadn't been any other option than killing them.
Well, he'd just have to wait and see what happened. Glancing up into the night sky, he tried to judge how far off dawn could be. He couldn't imagine that they intended to move the lead again this night. For now Akhan was determined to see where this Brother went. It was tempting to scurry off round the inner passageways of the arena to try and spot where they were taking the cart, but he was more than a little wary of taking his eye off of the figure standing alone out there.
"Damn. If only I could think of some way of making the deaths look unsuspicious." Akhan grinned to himself at the absurd thought. It didn't really matter he supposed. "Even if we'd managed to dispose of the bodies so they weren't found, the Brother would still have been mighty suspicious. No, we're just going to have to gamble that he won't attempt to abandon this place during the day." It was becoming more important, in Akhan's view anyway, that they try and capture this crew as soon as possible. If they could act quickly then they'd be able to snap them all up.
"If he starts searching for those two then I reckon it's probably time to leave this arena," Akhan mused. "No point getting caught trying to break my way back out of the building. Then I could skulk around outside for a bit to make sure they didn't change their mind about unloading and nick off."
As he sat in the silence, he watched the ratfaced man wait patiently. He did not seem overly concerned that no-one responded immediately. Then Akhan suddenly heard noise from behind him, beyond the doors, as of two men talking.
It seemed like they were coming his way...

Eloi stood, bewildered, on the bridge over the Silver Flow. All the way back, tand still there was no sign of the missing Kyros.
"This party is disappearing faster than an orc maidens virginity!" he cursed aloud.
Kyros could wait - Eloi was eager to reacquaint himself with Smokelight. The Jade, Jet and mention of 'Gate' were the keys to this mystery and Eloi was sure that Smokelight would be able to throw some light on their significance.
He crossed the Silver Flow and started his careful and wary approach to Gelder's Warehouse.
Smokelight shouldn't prove too difficult to find, he decided - all he would need to do was follow the pungent aroma of the vile weed that he smoked with great frequency.

Akhan hurried back towards the arena doors. He slid behind the nearest one, as far back into the shadows as he could, hoping only that he would not be noticed and they would walk right past him.
His heart pounded , and it seemed like ages as the two men walked towards him, such was his fear of discovery that he could not listen to what they were saying.
Whoever it was, they swung the door even further open and Akhan cringed as it smacked off his foot - not for the minor pain it inflicted, but the dull thudding noise. To his relief, the men continued onwards into the arena, towards the ratfaced man.
As Akhan watched, he saw another three forms emerge from the pothole, and probably another four or five beginning to emerge from similar doors dotted about the terraces.
Alternating between the desire to creep closer to this gathering and his urgent wish to get as far away as possible from so many enemies, Akhan remained hidden in his shadowy corner. He let the two figures who had passed him get further into the arena before he ventured forward to earwig on the conspiracy again. Besides, at this rate there could be a whole bunch of these beggars still to make their way through the doors.
"What's the collective noun for a collection of rats, then?" He frowned in concentration over this piece of trivia. "Gaggle? Nah, far too mild. Something more sinister I think. Wait a minute... What's the one for those black corbie crows? I'm sure I remember it! Which class would it have been now? Mmm. MmmmMmMmmmmm. Aha! A murder of crows! Or was it? Difficult to recall now. Oh well, even if it isn't it should be. It sounds too good to be wrong."
Listening carefully to see if there were any stragglers still to pass through the doors, Akhan stood for a moment before beginning to creep forward again. "But what about rats? What should we call them? What about a 'cauldron' of rats? Mmm. Nope. A 'pox'! Hmm. Got possibilities." He wiped his Eye nervously as he edged further up the passageway. "Maybe we should go for a big word. 'Suppuration' of rats."
He sighed inwardly. This was annoying. Now he'd have to find out. This was just going to bug him until he knew. Unfortunately he had a sneaking feeling he'd be disappointed. "It can hardly be as good as a 'murder' after all."
The men walked out further into the arena, and he cursed his inane inner ramblings as he heard more footsteps just outside the doors. With the quickest silent shuffle of his life he edged back to his hiding place just as the doors opened and a solitary man walked through, briskly, as though he thought he was late.
As the door swung back it struck Akhan's foot again and cringed once more at the dull thud. Again, the man seemed not to notice.
No sooner had Akhan relaxed slightly than the man stopped, as if a grim realisation had dawned upon him. Suddenly he spun about, drawing his sword as he did so, and faced the hiding thief.

It took Eloi some time to find the street, being unaccustomed to the layout of Gradsul, but eventually he managed to find Harber Stratz.
He barely managed to pick out a sign confirming that the building in front was indeed Gelder's Warehouse. He could also make out a small door next to the end of the street.
Keeping to the shadows of the eaves overhanging on the right hand side of the street he cautiously crept to the end of the street so that he would be stationed across from the door. That there seemed to be no-one else around made Eloi's task all the more difficult, as he had nobody in particular to be sure he was hidden from. As he crept up, the door appeared to him to lead into the Azure Trading Company's office, and seemed to be closed at present.
He thought about trying the door and gaining entry, but paused. His real goal was to find Smokelight! Surely the mage would not have risked entering the building, but would have secreted himself somewhere around the building.
Keeping to the shadows he wandered off to make a perimeter reconaissance of the block that the Azure Trading Company was part, scanning all dark corners and hidy holes that would make a good hiding looking for Smokelight. And considering that it was a mage he also looked in places that he knew would not be a great hiding place!

"Uh oh. I'm guessing he's seen me," Akhan thought, as his stomach made a determined effort to force its way up his windpipe. Meanwhile, the little food left in his system after his dockside accident, seemed to have decided that now was a good time to leave from the other end of his body.
Akhan jumped forward, desperately trying to whip round the other side of the door before this man could close with him and start another sword fight. It was too unhealthy to be hanging around this arena now with such a potentially hostile audience. It was more than high time for him to be heading off.
As Akhan dodged between the half-closed doors a pain in his left shoulder told him that he hadn't quite survived the encounter unharmed. He took off back the way he had come, hoping he'd still be able to make it out of this place the same way they'd got in.
"Come on boots, do your stuff," he thought as he raced along the passageway.
Ahead he saw two figures ahead, leaning over the crumpled heap of a ratman body. As he approached, they looked around, and he realised that both men had their swords drawn.
There was a gap between the rightmost man and the outer wall which he thought he might be able to run through.
Nothing witty coming to mind, Akhan could only grin viciously at the two figures in front of him as he attempted to cruise past them. He'd had to pull some hasty retreats in his time, but for the life of him, Akhan couldn't remember the last time he'd had to leggit out of the clutches of an entire Scarlet Brotherhood cell.
With a final spurt of speed, Akhan burst past the dawdling man and his would-be Akhan-impaler. There was a thud as he ran on, and as he reached the double-doors into the stable area Akhan afforded himself a glance over his shoulder. The second man was running towards him in vain, but the first was trying to remove his sword from the wooden post where it had imbedded itself when he missed his fine and handsome head.
From behind, Akhan heard a cry go out, undoubtedly from the first man, to spoil his fun.
"Through here! He's through here!" cried the man who ran towards him, but in vain as Akhan slipped through the double doors, quickly placing down its crossbar.
He was about to award himself a pat on the back for his successes when he heard someone coming towards him through the stables. Without further ado he ran out of the stables via the doors they had entered by, into the cold night.
The streets about the arena were practically empty, and Akhan wasn't even very sure which way took him back into town. A sweat came to his brow as a picture of himself down a dark, dead-end alley, with wererats crawling from every manhole, door and window flashed through his mind for an instant. Without another second lost, he ran off down the way he thought they had come, muttering a silent prayer of thanks for his magical boots, and started back to Halykk's home.

Smokelight had been seated there for some time and, truth be told, he was starting to get pins and needles in his behind. At least the brandy kept him warm, even if wasn't the best.
The noise from within, dull and constant, continued. Whatever they were unloading, or loading, seemed to be taking some time.
He was thinking about another viewpoint when around the corner lumbered a solitary figure. As the figure tried to move along nonchalantly he felt sure he knew who it was - Eloi.
As Eloi ambled along, he too noticed, from a door way beyond the main trade entrance to the warehouse, a half-figure leaning out of a doorway and waving him briefly on. He was somewhat cautious, but felt sure that it could be none other than the erstwhile Smokelight.
Remembering his location, Eloi began to stagger, feigning drunkenness. This only heightened his realisation of a growing thirst that had been gnawing at him since...well, since the last drink he had guzzled some time ago. As he teetered past the warehouse entrance he could not help but peer briefly inside and caught the eye of a guard standing near to the door.
Beyond the guard, he saw several men on the other side of a cart - above them was an unladen winch of some sorts, but he could not see past the cart to what they were doing. Suddenly a sharp pain on his forehead sent him reeling for real, and has he dragged himself up from the ground, he saw his antagonist - the guard there, who had hit him with a stone.
"Begone yer drunken bastard - there'll be nothing fer yer thievin' here tonight!" he yelled, putting his hand to his sword hilt as Eloi scrambled away.
The man watched him stagger down the street, and he kept going past Smokelight and out of sight. He then nursed his wounds and waited until Smokelight came around the corner a few minutes later.
Eloi slapped Smokelight on the back and motioned him to a quiet corner out with a reasonable view of warehouse.
"I am glad to see you! What news do you have? I for one have much to tell."
"Vesic and myself followed O'Shad to a wererat-infested arena. We overheard a conversation between O'Shad and someone he referred to as brother. Whether by blood or other link I do not know."
"Anyways, he referred to a number of things which troubled me. It would appear that the contents of the barrels is to be used by O'Shad's brother to purchase Jet and Jade. O'Shad also made mention of a 'gate' being completed. Does this mean anything to you? It sounds magical to me."
"Vesic is tracking O'Shad's brother. We need to know who he is trading with."
"It is good to see you, to," Smokelight whispered to Eloi. The old mage looked relieved and tired. "I followed the wagon here, which went inside this 'Azure Trading Company' building. As you can see, guards have been posted. I could hear activity inside, but could not be more specific. After about ten minutes, a black carriage pulled up outside, and from that a strange figure debarked and went inside, past the guards who offered no challenge. Of the figure I could only discern what looked to be a middle-aged man with a short beard and dark hair - he wore a large felt hat and a long cloak. Since then, I've been sitting here as quietly and unobtrusively as possible. I was tempted to try my luck and investigate on my own, but I thought better of it, and decided to perch here and wait for one of you more dexterous and light-footed folks."
Smokelight mused on what Eloi had told him, pulling one ear nervously.
"I'm sorry to say I don't know the relevance of jet or jade to the matter. In the context of spell-lore, jet is often involved in soul magics, and jade has an influence on various aspects of music. That is all I can offer, to that. Perhaps they figure in to this mysterious 'gate' mentioned - I can't be sure. Wererats though! A bad sign. The mention of 'brother' can only lead me to suspect a 'scarlet' connection, in light of our recent enquiries."
"In any case, I'm glad to see you are well so far. I hope the others are as well. What do you propose we do?"
Eloi smiled, "Okay, we'll wait a few hours and see if this dark figure leaves the warehouse. When he does we will follow him to his destination."
Smokelight raised his right hand to his beard and began to scratch it, as though remembering something. Eloi waited attentively, and as he did noticed the smell of brandy from the mage's breath.
"Oh yes, and this is important," Smokelight articulated the point with a raised finger. "The cart I followed here was left inside without apparent guards. No one unloaded it, either, when it was brought here. But a bit later (before the black carriage arrived) another cart, unguarded, was brought here by a solitary cartman. The arrival of this cart generated quite a bit of activity, and many people unloaded it together. Two guards were posted near it, afterwards." Smokelight nodded in the direction of the guard who'd thrown the stone at Eloi moments earlier. "They've remained there ever since."
Eloi made a face as he considered Smokelight's words. "It would appear to me that they are gathering materials for something. Perhaps materials to construct the gate O'Shad referred to? T'Lan summoned several Demons at Axewood Palace during his attempt on the kings life. Could this gate be some portal to another place with the intent to release a Demonic army? If so, would there be some means of researching what the gate might be? We know jet and jade are involved somewhere, perhaps possible building materials?"
Smokelight belched. Eloi noticed the aromatic exhalation of brandy mingled with the old mage's characteristed bad breath.
"Uh, excuse me. Yes, I can't refute your suggestion that jade and jet may be being used as material components for an infernal gate. If Scarlet you-know-who's are involved, I'd expect devils rather than demons to arrive, however... relevant difference." Smokelight searched the wisps of his alcohol soaked memory: was there a fact in there somewhere about the Scarlet Brotherhood using teleport gates? He couldn't be sure. What could those foul monks and priests to that Dark One be planning? "I'll research this if I ever get the chance, Eloi."
Eloi listened to Smokelight's response and considered their watch over the warehouse.
"Smokelight, we must keep watch over the two doors, the entrance to the office and the warehouse door. They are on different sides of the building. We should each keep an eye on one of the doors. We do not want this stranger leaving and us not noticing. I will keep an eye on the warehouse door, leaving you to watch over the office door."
Smokelight ambled off, as stealthily as his inebriated state allowed, to try to make his way to a place or alcove or garbage dump where he could observe the office entrance. "Istus be with ye," he whispered over his shoulder to his pig-snouted but noble-hearted friend.

Kyros sat on his haunches, on a wooden sleeping platform as he looked around the small cell. Certainly it was dry, and more comfortable than the one at Tringlee, but a cell, after all, was a cell. He felt sure that some dweomer encompassed the place, for none of his prayers for healing had been successful.
He had spent some time in prayer and in brooding thought on the journey back, and in the little time he had in the cell. He cast his mind on the years of his life thus far. He was most happy when he dwelt in the lands of weal and good. Nyrond was a good place, he reminisced. He had thought of it as a land of promise, of hope, after the dark decay of the Great Kingdom. Keoland seemed pleasant so far as well - he had not travelled here unintentioned. Kyros had thought of making this a place to stay, perhaps for a couple of years. That hope seemed to be rapidly diminishing now, he feared.
The Mareschal had said little on the brief journey to this place, which was at the end of the docks, nestled amongst the buildings of the Umberdtine, the Royal Fleet headquarters. He had been surprised to find that the others who assisted in his capture had been Halstus's men - pleasantly surprised, though, when he saw the charred remains of the man who had also felt the effects of the Mareschal's magical javelin.
He felt no pleasure in the death of one of Halstus's men - they were simply doing their duty. Yet another victim of another Sablefist, one who was long-gone but still managed to kill from the past.
The dull brown robe, which he had been given when all his clothes and property were removed, certainly did not suit him. As he rubbed his wrist where the manacles had chafed, someone approached the cell door and opened it.
It was Ollf Veshper.
Kyros had a good look at him for the first time. A half-elf, he noticed how freely the Mareschal moved, as though unconcerned by the airs and graces that bothered so many men. He bore no weapons now, and had removed any armour he may have been wearing. He sat down on the raised bed platform next to Kyros.
"Your hearing has been ordained for tomorrow," he said. "If you wish I will send an advocate to discuss your situation. For now, if you wish to tell me who your companions are, and where I might reach them, I will set about getting your message to them."
"Thank you for keeping your promise and your offer, Mareschal. I am pleased to make the acquaintance of an honourable man," Kyros said with a slight nod of the head. He might actually like this man, Kyros wondered, had circumstances been more different. "I'd appreciate a message sent to Eloi Brandt, Akhan Bherrulian or Smokelight. They are currently putting up at Mrs Byellok's Guesthouse, on the corner of Schubler Street and Wessen Avenue, in the Gartten District. Oh, except Akhan, or Vesic as he likes to be known - we were staying with Halykk Mandrennin, the cloth merchant, also in the Gartten District. If you would explain my specific predicament to them and inform them of the hearing tomorrow, and request they do anything in their power to arrange my acquittal or stand as witnesses at the hearing, I would be greatly indebted to you for the favour. Tell them that I'd like to speak to one of them before the trial, if this is permissible.
"Tell them it's..," and here Kyros permitted himself a smile, " …urgent. Wake them up if necessary. And I suppose I should speak to an advocate, I am unversed in Keoish law."
Kyros appeared thoughtful - somehow worried at how much to tell the Mareschal. He reasoned that they were on the same side, but feared Eloi's displeasure if he told too much. In the end he decided his need was greater than the need for secrecy.
"Mareschal, you might still want to be apprised of the matter I and my companions are here for. We smell the stench of the Scarlet Brotherhood in Gradsul." Kyros stated simply.
"I will see to the message, and your advocate," Ollf Veshper said. "As for this 'matter' you are involved in, I have time on my hands if there is aught you wish to tell me of - especially if the Scarlet Ones are involved."
Seeing as there was not much else he could do anyway in the cell, Kyros gave Ollf Veshper a quick rundown on the suspicious activities the group had discovered in Gradsul, mentioning Red Hannay, O'Shad and the Shelliak, the fake gold, and Gelders, restricting the details accordingly, as he did not truly know the Mareschal's interest and attention.
"I don't suppose I can get the High Mareschal's office to send a letter of asylum in time for tomorrow." Kyros looked hopefully at Veshper.
The Mareschal sat with jaw dropped, aghast at the news Kyros was telling him. The Olidamarran could tell that Ollf had three considerations - either the dreadful tale of spies and counterfeiting he told was horribly true, an elaborate hoax, or the priest was incurably insane.
When he finished, Ollf was almost at a loss for words.
"If this is true, our interruption is most unfortunate," he finally said. "However, things must now run the course upon which they are set. I will be investigating your claims myself, and deliver the message to this Eloi Brand in person. I have heard of him, master Kyros - last year when I was hunting down the Brotherhood spy, Sherrigo, from the Rushmoor into Shibboleth, he saved our King's life at Axewood and he is of some renown."
Kyros watched the Mareschal leave and resisted the urge to exclaim 'I told you so, you stiffnecked lawman', seeing as Veshper had treated him very civilly and considerately. The interruption was indeed, unfortunate, in more ways than one, Kyros thought as he slumped back against one of the cell walls.

At every street corner, with every passing stranger he held his breath, half-expecting a hairy transformation before his eyes into a twisted rat-creature.
The front gates of Halykk's home were indeed a sight for a sore eye!
As he walked up the path to the house, for a moment, a strange footfall and raspy breathing sent his hackles up, but in another moment he was smiling. He remembered the first time that sound had caused him fright, something it would never do again. He turned about and knelt to the ground.
"Evening, boy!" he said as Ash launched himself into his arms like a daft pup, his friendly licks reminding Akhan how he had neglected him over the past couple of days.
Akhan indulged himself for a moment or two in patting Ash and making a fuss. He didn't even mind the dog hair on his clothes - after today's mishaps he was sure they were pretty shabby already. He stood debating whether to go in and see whether Halykk was about; or whether to rush off and try and find the others. On the one hand, he felt tired and wrung through and talking to Halykk didn't really appeal very much. But, Eloi or one of the others might have left a message, or even be here. That decided it. He'd stop in briefly, just to see if Halykk was up. Nothing lost if he wasn't.
Quickly checking within, Halykk's butler informed him that the master and his two guards were at work that evening.As Akhan pondered what to do next, he saw the butler's eyes raise and heard footsteps behind him. He turned to see a fancily- dressed man wearing a broad-brimmed hat with a feather in it, leading a horse towards them.
"I am looking for a Master Akhan Bherrulian," the man said, glancing at a scroll he had in his right hand.
Akhan looked at his blue crushed velvet attire, and the Royal Insignia he bore upon his right breast, and realised this man was in fact a Royal Herald, a messenger in the service of the King.
Akhan nodded upwards, saying, "That is me."
The man moved closer, eyeing Ash suspiciously as the dog gave him one of its 'potential biter' looks.
"A message, sir, from the King's Mareschal in Gradsul, Olff Veshper," he said. "If you would please attend at the Umberdtine, a man alleging to be your companion, one Kyros Telliran, is being held there on grave charges. The prisoner is requesting your attendance."
Akhan raised an eyebrow in interest. It explained where Kyros had gone, but not why. What trouble could he have gotten into in such a short time, and why had he given Akhan's true name to be used? Altogether, this Kyros was spending far too much time in the custody of the Mareschals.
As the Herald left, Halykk's butler spoke to Akhan.
"I know you are unfamiliar with our city, sir. The Umberdtine is the Royal Fleet headquarters, but the Mareschal is also based there. You would find it at the southern end of the docks, past the shipyards."
Akhan groaned - it was getting late, and had been a long, weary day. Already he had celebrated the joys of Olidamarra, searched the Shelliak, been gassed by a half-wit mage, followed a cart full of lead through the streets and narrowly risked being gnawed to death by a score of wererats. And now he was having to trek downtown to bail out Kyros - again! The vision of a hot bath and a nice, warm bed was appearing more of a fantasy by the minute.

But a couple of hours later, another visitor arrived - a tall, thin, greying man who had a  most unkempt look about him. From the grey robes he wore and the books he carried Kyros quickly surmised that he was the advocate who would represent him. The man entered without a word, then sat on the raised platform for a good fifteen minutes, examining a few paper documents he had with him, not even acknowledging Kyros's presence.
"An interesting case here," the man finally said, pointing to the papers. "A comprehensive and thorough case for extradition Mister Telliran - unless you have some challenge to their claim that you committed these crimes, they are likely  to succeed. Do you read?"
Kyros nodded, and the man handed him a script written in the Common Tongue, which he soon realised was a petition against him issued by the Supreme Court of Nyrond. It listed in detail five of the most heinous chapters of his former life.
As he read, the man continued.
"Perhaps you should tell me about these events, if you know anything of them, and how they came to pass."
The man stopped suddenly.
"Oh, how rude of me," he claimed. "I am Kerrald O'Tyan,  advocate and King's Counsel. Anyway, pleasantries over, how do you wish to proceed?"
Kyros looked at the man who came in, and considered his questions. Short of breaking out of this gaol, in which case he would have avoided capture, the next option would be to tell the truth, and to see if his cynicism with the justice and fairness of the courts of law were unfounded or fully justified.
"Thank you Mister O'Tyan, for taking time at this unholy hour to examine my case." Kyros looked down at the sheet of paper he was holding. "As to charges on this petition, I must say that they are indeed absolutely true. Every single one of them."
Kyros looked at the paper - there were many more crimes he must have committed against Nyrond not listed here - but the ones here: murder and assassination of a number of Nyrondese nobles and officers, sabotage of military operations, terror campaigns waged against the hamlets along the Nyrond-North Province border, and more, the ones here were sufficient to damn him to the Nine Hells in the most painful way possible.
"You must note that these charges levied against me all fall under the timespan of three years, between the Common Years 573 to 576. Talking about the past always hurts. In that period, I was an operative of the Great Kingdom, and was assigned to espionage activities against the country of Nyrond. These horrible crimes you read are testament to my success in that endeavour."
"Do you believe in powerful, life-changing magic, Mister O'Tyan? I believe that my life was turned around because of some inexplicable power. I gave up my home country and escaped the North Province to Nyrond, where I spent the last nine years trying to atone for the evil I have done against Rel Mord. For every crime I committed, I must have paid back tenfold, no more as a spy, but as a priest of Oildammara. What the courts of law do not have written down in their records are the good works I have done for the country, and that included my role in the recent wars. Every other priest of Olidammara, and many other Pelorites and holy men of Rao and Heironeous, every village and burg in the vicinity of an Olidammaran temple or shrine in the south-central Nyrondese region can testify to the priestly duties I have fulfilled. I have helped shore up border loopholes against Great Kingdom incursions. This is my defence, a defence which I believe will be regarded as nothing in the eyes of the law."
Kyros appeared almost winded by his last words. What he had said seemed to leech away the energy in his body. He thought of giving up, of letting them take him away and hanging him and feeding him to the vultures.
"Which is why I am here in Keoland. There are troubles in Gradsul I have just explained to the Mareschal, and I am here in this country to lend a hand towards their resolution. My orders come from the Lord High Mareschal himself, and from the High Priest of the Laughing Rogue, Lord Aranon Silverlief. Surely upon their authority I can gainsay the extradition demands of the man who brought them here, a Major Halstus, who is sworn to have my life.
"I am prepared to speak in court tomorrow under the geas of magical truth. Mister O'Tyan, I seek asylum in Keoland, until such time as I complete my mission here and undertake to clear my name back in Nyrond. I need protection against madmen like Halstus who want my life handed tothem on a platter."
The advocate was silent for a moment.
"Might I say," he eventually continued, maintaining eye contact with Kyros throughout, "how unusual, and indeed refreshing, it is in my line of work to meet  someone so open and honest about his crimes."
He looked down at his papers and shuffled them.
"All is not so bleak as might appear," he stated. "As for asylum, we have no such thing here, other than a pardon from the King which is unlikely in the circumstances. You will understand, for the Nyrondese to pursue you across such bounds they have a great desire to see you brought to justice. The King would not risk alienation of an ally such as Nyrond for yourself, I am afraid.
He cleared his throat.
"The good news then - well, I gather you are not without intellect, so I might indulge myself in rambling somewhat on the laws of our great nation. Here, our prosecutor, the Lord Advocate, must prove the charges against you to the satisfaction of the Sheriffs before you might be extradited. That is to say, they must prove that the crimes occurred, that the charges relate to
the crimes, and that you committed the crimes as charged.
"The first proof, the occurrence of the crimes, will be proven by the deposition of the Nyrondese courts that effected the warrant for your arrest here. If the High Sheriff has granted a warrant he must already be satisfied that the crimes occurred, so I would not presume to challenge that part.
"The second - well, if you can point out any inaccuracies in the charges then fine and well, but I imagine that the charges will prove to relate to the crimes. So it is in the third realm that we must mount our challenge."
Kyros felt somewhat puzzled - he had already told the man that he had committed the crimes.
"The challenge I'll mount is that whilst Kyros Telliran did commit these crimes, the Kyros Telliran that stands before them now is not the same person. I will need to muster expert witness from the magical community here in Gradsul, and that might take some days, but it would be my intent to prove that since commission of these crimes you have undergone such a radical change in personality and mind to, in effect, no longer be the person that you once were.
"I do not know how you feel about this, Kyros, but I feel it is our best hope. Now - do you have  any objections to my planned course of action? If not, there are a few matters we must discuss. Do you know the nature of the change that befell you? The source of it? What is the specific effect it has had on your life? The more you can tell me about this, the better - if you had anything I might submit for magical examination to prove your case, all the more so."
Kyros sighed - perhaps it was best to detail his actions to the Advocate completely, so that there would be no misunderstanding as to the exact nature of his past. Clearing his throat, he began to recount his tale...

Half-way through his first beer, Adar could tell that this inn was something more than the 'old salts' rest that it appeared at a casual glance. Not quite a guildhouse, perhaps not even a safehouse, but he could almost 'feel' it had some guild connection. There was too much haggling and bartering going on from time to time as visitors, who were not in the slightest interested in the drink or the atmosphere, brought in their (undoubtedly stolen) wares, then left immediately on selling them.
But then again, he imagined it would be so for many such establishments on the Dockfront. Cargo entering Gradsul was renowned for walking away of its own accord, and there was no-one to stop it.
Adar had heard of the Gradsul guilds, who dominated city life. They were ruled over by a mysterious figure, whose name he could not quite recall - a foreign name though. This man was a figure of dark legend, used to scare children to bed, much as Iuz was to the north, or Ivid to the west. His reputation was peerless, his ferocity and barbarity endless. In Gradsul, no-one challenged the Guilds, not even the Count.
He was on his third beer, as he saw the barman look up, then glance away at the realisation of his action, as though aware of his attention. Adar peered around and saw a half-elf, with an eye-patch covering his left eye, peering in from the doorway he stood in.
After a minute regarding all and sundry within the inn he went back outside again, as Adar walked quickly towards the door to follow him.

Kerrald O'Tyan sat, mouth agape at Kyros' tale. It was his turn to clear his throat.
"An entrancing tale!" he declared. "I trust it will hold up to magical detection as the truth?"
Kyros nodded.
Kyros had not quite recounted the entire tale of course, just the briefest of details required for his understanding. He thought Kerrald O'Tyan quite brilliant for coming up with the line of defence - Kyros knew himself that he was no more Kyros 'Sablefist' Telliran, cruel and emotionless operative of the Malachite Throne, he was Kyros 'Sablefist' Telliran, easygoing priest of Olidammara, but to mount that particular fact as his defence…Kyros could only pray that it was sufficient.
"On my years of reflection I can only conclude that it was the amulet that caused the radical transformation of my personality. It is no small transformation - from a belief in order and regimentation, and...and I must confess, evil and pain, to one of weal and good. Most remarkable."
At this point Kyros brooded for a moment, lost in pensive thought.
"I've tried not wearing it, but have suffered no adverse effects nor reversal of ethos and outlook. The change, I think, is permanent, as the last nine years of my life can testify. I'd be indebted to you if you could get an expert analysis on its magick. You think this might just be sufficient to clear my name?" Kyros looked hopefully.
"I certainly hope so," he said, holding out his hand for the amulet. "I shall have this done first thing in the morning, and hopefully we can use it to your advantage at the hearing in the afternoon."
The advocate rose to his feet and rapped the door twice. "If there is anything else you think of in the interim, the Mareschal will get a message to me. I wish you a good night's sleep," he said.
A guard then checked through the Judas gate before opening the door to allow the Advocate to leave. The small cell suddenly seemed even smaller again.Kyros was tired.
The events of the day had been quite overwhelming, andhe welcomed the opportunity to rest. His predicament troubled him somewhat, but he tried to assure himself that, on one hand, it might be worth all this trouble to attain a hassle-free existence in Keoland, and on the other hand, if things were to go very badly, he had escaped from worse scrapes than these.
So despite himself, Kyros laid back against the wall, and fell into a deep sleep.
And he began to dream...

Akhan felt nervous waiting there in the Mareschal's office - it was like waiting to be disciplined after one of his fine University escapades. The office seemed 'Oerthy' - practical and efficient, although cluttered in places. He had the feeling from all the outdoorsy type of things that Bermen would have approved of such a place.
He had begun a streak of nostalgia, reminiscing over the missing ranger when the door opened. To his surprise the Mareschal, who was remarkably calm and comfortable in appearance, was half-olven. Akhan noted that he carried himself with confidence, and did not seem to have the need to carry any weapons.
"I apologise for the wait, Master Akhan," he said. "It has been a busy night - as well as your friend's adventures, it would seem that a priest of Pelor, or someone disguised as one, has butchered an old man in the Barndanhel District."
Akhan grimaced, and clapped the hound that lay at his feet. Immediately he thought of Eloi, but dismissed him as he knew that rogue would never pass for a man of the cloth - even a dirty foodstained cloth! Still, there had been no-one at the Golden Anchor and he wondered exactly what they were all up to. Since he was there alone, clearly they had not found Kyros as he had.
"Your friend, you may or may not know, hails from the west - the Aerdi lands to be exact."
Akhan gave  a puzzled look - Kyros had led him to believe that he was from Nyrond, not from the Old Enemy!
"Tonight I had no option but to enforce a  warrant from the Kingdom of Nyrond, backed by the Lord Sheriff of Keoland, to apprehend him and hold him for an extradition hearing tomorrow. These are the charges on which they will find."
The Mareschal passed him a piece of parchment, and Akhan's eye almost bulged out its socket at the charges thereon - murder, genocide, treason...it made Kyros out to be more akin to Iuz than Olidamarra. Akhan could not help but shake his head.
"Mareschal, surely there must be some mistake..." he started, but the Mareschal shook his head.
"A contingent from Nyrond who have been hunting him for years - one man in particular, a Major Halstus, knows him well, and in fact is the victim for some of these charges. Thanks to your friend, Major Halstus sports but one eye like yourself."
Akhan put a hand to his eyepatch, momentarily reliving the encounter with the Drow in the forest again.
"And that is not all - one of Halstus's men were killed in his apprehension. Even if he fails to have him extradited tomorrow, the Major is demanding that he be tried for murder - and I fear he will get it!"
Akhan groaned as he thought of Eloi hearing this latest news.
"But he has told me something of interest."
Akhan cocked his head, nodding for the Mareschal to go on.
"He has told me of a Brotherhood plot; a tale of false gold, of merchants and a boat, and of the Lord High Mareschal's orders for you and your team to investigate. But I need more than tales, I need proof before I can even think to help him. Master Bherrulian - tell me of what you know to be going on, and I may be able to help both Kyros and your team."
Akhan leaned further back in his chair and stuck his feet out in front of him. "It seems like Kyros has already given you the broad outline," he said shrugging. "Baron Eloi Brandt of Ammar - the powerful and sagacious saviour of the King, you know?" said Akhan with perfunctory sarcasm. "Anyways, he accepted a mission from Lord Thoggin to lead a team here to Gradsul and investigate a man known as Vellip O'Shad. It was suspected that he was a Scarlet Brotherhood agent and, as far as the Baron ever let slip to us mere commoners, the nature of our work was to find out what he was up to and see that it didn't succeed."
Akhan's instincts rebelled at the necessity of divulging all of this information to a relative stranger. However, he'd recognised almost from the beginning that he needed this Mareschal's help and not only with getting Kyros off the hook. Not that he was entirely sure that maybe Kyros didn't deserve his fate. He could deal with that later though. Right now, he had the opportunity to convince this man of the seriousness of the situation and make use of the resources at his disposal to round up the Brotherhood.
"O'Shad arrived on a ship called the Shelliak which carried a cargo listed as two crates of lead. Indeed, this was the case. However, the lead took the rather interesting form of counterfeit coins." Akhan paused, rather pleased with the drama of his tale. "These crates have now been moved. One was transported to an arena in the Garrisfurd district. The other may have been taken to the house of a merchant named Gelders whom we suspect of being O'Shad's contact within Gradsul. I believe Baron Ammar is sticking his ample nose into that possibility right now."
Passing his hand over his stubbled face, Akhan massaged his eye, feeling the effects of his tiredness despite his awareness of a certain pressure of time. For all he knew the Brotherhood agents had decided to quit the arena now that they knew someone had discovered their lair.
"The Baron and I followed the other crate as it was lead into the arena. There we saw O'Shad meet with other Scarlet ones, some of whom are were-rats. Indeed we were obliged to put a couple of them out of their misery when they chanced on us. The conversation we overheard was very strange: they discussed the use of the fake coins to buy quantities of jade and jet. These were to be used in the construction of some sort of 'gate'. As you can imagine, we were anxious to get out of there and get some reinforcements; the Baron made his escape. However, I stayed for a while longer and observed a great many men gathering within the arena. Also, they seem to have their base there as I heard them talking of storing the crate there."
Akhan stopped, looking keenly at Olff Veshper's face. He cleared his throat. "Mayhap, this sounds rather far-fetched to you. But I would remind you of the Brotherhood's involvement in the attempt upon the King's life - I myself saw the Scarlet one eliminate his own were-rat minion in Axewood forest. I trust you will take me at my word Mareschal because I cannot imagine that we can rest easy until we apprehend the men or were-rats or whatever they were that I saw in that arena. And I believe that you must act now. I was discovered and barely escaped. I made my way back to my lodgings and it was there that your Herald found me."
Akhan stood , hoping he had been convincing enough. "So you see Mareschal, that things are more serious than perhaps any of us realises. I would ask that you call out your men now and make a thorough investigation of the arena before the Brotherhood disappears into thin air again like they did at Axewood palace."
"Well, I am pleased that you confirmed Kyros's story," Ollf claimed. "He does not seem the type to have committed such acts as are listed against him, and I hope for his sake he is not. Lord Thoggin's judicious use of covert and overt forces is a matter for his decision, and I will not question that - but if you wish my help, you have only to let me know. Perhaps it would be best of Baron Eloi were to let me know how I can help. But bear in mind that before I can act I will need evidence of wrongdoing, not mere suspicion - perhaps you too would be best advised to consider this.
"'Knowing' they are up to something is one thing, but proving it is another - not that I require an absolute level of proof, but men sneaking about our streets with cartloads of lead is not a crime. Perhaps there is more to be learned from watching your suspects still than by bringing them in - I fear hanging them for counterfeiting might solve the immediate problem, but if there is some sort of 'gate' in our midst, we may wish to find it before they bring in whatever is to be 'gated' here. Bearing in mind what happened at Axewood Palace, I tremble to think of what they plan!"
The Mareschal raised his eyebrows in mock horror.
"As for Kyros - the hearing will take place tomorrow afternoon in private hearing. If you and Eloi, or at least one of you, wish to come here first thing tomorrow we can discuss this problem and once the hearing is over I will let you know the result immediately. Meantime, is there anything I can do for you?"
As Olff droned on about such trifling matters as proof, Akhan's heart sank. He felt a little resentful too as he didn't remember ever being afforded such scrupulous attention to the niceties of the law in his own professional career. It was also fairly obvious that this Mareschal's nose had been put out of joint a little by the fact that Thoggin had sent a team into 'his' city without informing him. Well, there was nothing Akhan could have done about that. He mentally crossed out the possibility of support from the King's man - for the moment at least. Potentially this might mean trouble from yet another source. It was entirely possible that this Mareschal might have his own network of informers and heavies operating in the city. If Veshper were to take it into his head to make life difficult for them all, then they would just have to put up with it. Rivalries between agents nominally on the same side was an unfortunate aspect in the nasty business of spying. His contact Raven had told him some horror stories of feuds like this getting out of hand.
"Many thanks, Mareschal Veshper. I appreciate your kind intervention in the case of my associate." Akhan did his best to try and look appreciative. "You can be sure that the Baron will be only too happy to hear of your kind offer of assistance. As soon as he thinks proper, I'm sure he will ask for you to step in and enforce the King's Peace." Akhan made his bow and was on the point of leaving.
"Perhaps it would be possible to see the unfortunate prisoner, Lord Mareschal? It would put his mind at rest perhaps if I could assure him that his plight was known to his associates."
The thought also ocurred to Akhan that it would give him a chance to see what Kyros had to say for himself. Just exactly why would a high-ranking Nyrondese Major be so convinced that Kyros was his quarry?
"Surely enough," the Mareschal said. "He seems somewhat deflated at his capture - I find your friend a mystery, for while there is such strong evidence against him, I just have this gut feeling that he is incapable of committing such atrocities. Follow me."

"You must hand over your weapons to me before you enter," he said as he took the key from his belt. "And I will also warn you, any escape attempt and you will be dealt with most severely, and it will affect your friend's cause tomorrow."
Ollf took the weapons which Akhan handed him. He nodded, and turned the key in the lock, opening the cell door. The door opened, and Akhan saw a small cell beyond - somewhat nicer than any cell he had ever passed time in, but a cell all the same. As he entered, Kyros jumped from the raised platform on which he had been seated, somewhat startled as he appeared to have been sleeping.
"I will return in half an hour," the Mareschal said, closing and locking the door again.
"Hello Akhan," Kyros roused himself and assumed an almost urbaneexpression which belied the predicament he was in. "Come to get me out of prison for the second time, I hope." Kyros shrugged his shoulders.
With Veshper gone, Akhan leaned wearily against the wall and folded his arms as Kyros welcomed him. Ash had other ideas and most of the questions were uttered through the giant war dog's enthusiastic greeting for the cleric. "Ash, heel!" Akhan said, just a little irritated by the dog's energy which he most definitely didn't share.
"We'll need Eloi to throw his baronial weight around, I think. And make a lot of noise about his having saved the king. Any chance of dropping the High Mareschal's name here and there?"
"I'm afraid it might be more serious this time though," Kyros sobered up his expression. "At Tringlee the Mareschal was an arrogant ass and a power-hungry fool. This Mareschal seems reasonable, and a good man. The court's got papers on me demanding my extradition to Nyrond. Court's in session tomorrow. Either you find some way of getting me out, or stand as character witnesses for me."
"Where is Eloi and Smokelight anyway?"
"I wouldn't hold out too much hope of help from Amarr. The Baron owes his position to the King. And despite the title, I doubt that anyone so far south cares much about obliging a penurious half-orc adventurer who's lord of a northern dungheap. Besides, you know what he's like," Akhan snorted, "he'd be more likely to get you hung on the spot the moment he opens his mouth."
He stared at Kyros, genuinely troubled by this turn of events. "Just exactly what's this all about Kyros? We're none of us saints, but Nyrondese Majors don't tend to spend their lives wandering the Flanaess in vendettas against Olidamarran clerics without good reason. What did you do to this man? Apart from having his eye out that is. What's behind all these murder and treason charges?"
Akhan hoped there was a good explanation. "You're a good companion Kyros, but before I start thinking about extracting your neck from the noose I want to know a damn sight more than I do already. For instance, Veshper claims you're from the Aerdi." Akhan broke off and settled his back against the wall of the cell. "Do tell all," he said, gesturing for the cleric to begin. "I'm a good listener..."
It was pleasantly comforting, Kyros thought to himself, to run his hands under the dog's muzzle and give him a thorough scratching. Ash had gotten quite used to Kyros' presence and smell, and seemed quite happy to frolick around his feet.
"Right." Kyros looked at Akhan wearily, considered his words, and then tossed them out. "I didn't figure that Eloi would be any help in this circumstance. Just so that I get to say this before the Mareschal returns, if you believe and trust me, and the trial goes badly, I will be extradited to Nyrond. In that case, I will be forever indebted to you and the others if you could help me escape sometime along the journey to Nyrond. I will find some way to repay that debt and then be out of your lives." Kyros looked at the half-elf squarely, and then continued.
"Major Halstus? Hah!" Kyros spat the name out as if it were venom. "Yes, that eye was mine, as was the scar on the other eye. Next time I won't miss. It is a vendetta against me, except that he's managed to have the law on his side this time. He's got me and he knows it."
"Alright, here's half an hour worth of personal history, all the juicy bits anyway." With that Kyros' features softened slightly, and he sat down again on the raised platform. Akhan was the only one so far that he had hinted his past to, and now he was going to tell him all. All of Sablefist's secrets will come pouring out. But then, Kyros thought, he needed some friends in Keoland.
"The Mareschal speaks truly. I'm from the Great Kingdom, and a long time ago I was an enemy to the state of Nyrond. So the terrible charges Veshper must have mentioned to you are all true. What is also true is that many years ago I had a change of heart and defected to Nyrond. I became a priest. There I made good for everything evil I did, and ten times more. This fact not too many people know. On record I am an enemy of Nyrond, and on that record Halstus has pursued me here. You see, the last thing I did in Nyrond was to escape Halstus' clutches. I had to leave the country I grew to love."
"Now I am here in Gradsul, trying to start afresh. The King's Advocate appointed to me for tomorrow's trial will argue my case on the basis that I am no longer the man I once was, and should not be held responsible for the crimes I committed. I don't know if that will hold water, and thus I asked what I asked of you earlier. Be my witnesses in court, should that be necessary. I will be in your debt."
"And maybe I'll need a change of clothes as well." Kyros looked at his burnt rags and sighed.
"Mmmph," Akhan muttered, scrubbing at his face to try and fend off his exhaustion. "Well, the clothes I can provide easily enough. I'll arrange that with the Mareschal. No point in you turning up for the hearing looking like a murderer."
Akhan looked at Kyros again, still unsure what to think.
"I'm not one for putting too much store by the officers of the law; maybe you guessed that already. And a man's entitled to pick up a few enemies along the way. But, well, you can imagine I might be a litle wary about offending both Keoish and Nyrondese justice by removing you from their grasp. They're not likely to suffer such an affront to their authority lightly. So before I join you in exile in whatever armpit of the Flanaess we might consider obscure enough to spend the rest of our days in hiding, I'd prefer to try some other options."
Akhan leaned forward from his slouch against the wall.
"Veshper seems well disposed towards you. He doesn't seem to give much credence to the charges against you. But he's a Mareschal and I reckon he'll stand by the law unless he's given a very attractive alternative which satifies his sense of justice. He seemed relieved that I confirmed that you were here under the direction of Lord Thoggin and concerned about the Brotherhood but he refused to act unless presented with solid evidence. My guess is that if we were able to give him that proof, he'd be inclined to slow the process of your extradition up until some sort of diplomatic deal could be cut."
"Springing you is not an option at the moment - it'd just make the city too hot for us. We're supposed to be flushing out the Scarlet ones."
"I wasn't suggesting being sprung from this place, or anywhere in the heart of Keoland for that matter." Kyros snorted wryly. "I suppose I'm just motivated by the idea of getting rid of Halstus for good, say, when I'm being led by he and his cronies, and there aren't too many of them - I counted - on the long road back to Nyrond."
"I've been very law-abiding this time. I'm tired of running. And Keoland's a nice place. I think I've got the respect of the Mareschal. I was careful not to fight him nor hurt any of his men. And I told him that I would come peacefully with him if he would treat me fairly. He's seems to be a man of his word. He also seems to be of the opinion that Halstus is quite mad and hell-bent on revenge, and I don't think he likes the Nyrondese one bit. But you're right in saying that Veshper will uphold Keoish law at any cost."
"The advocate I spoke to appeared confident of defending my case. Apparently there might be magical grounds to prove that I have indeed undregone a change of ethos. I made mention of our purpose in Gradsul and the urgency of our mission to the Mareschal alone - he seems concerned and shocked over the matter and is inclined to let us continue our work. He might even give us a hand if we ask."
Akhan thought for a second about telling Kyros what they'd found and figured it couldn't do any harm. "Just to keep you up to speed - Eloi and I tracked that cart to an arena in the Garrisfurd. O'Shad met with other agents and they talked of distributing the money for use in obtaining quantities of jade and jet for the construction of some sort of 'gate'. It turns out that some, if not all, of these buggers are wererats!"
Akhan shuddered at the prospect of a bite from one of the damned things. And then a detail from what Cinion had told them of O'Shad's arrival in Gradsul popped back into his head.
"Wait a minute!" He frowned. "Wasn't O'Shad supposed to have disappeared from Red Hannay's and left his clothes behind him?" He slapped his forehead. "Of course. These damn things can change shape, can't they? All O'Shad had to do was to shift into his unnatural shape of a rat and wander off into the gutters. And that was what happened that night at Axewood. The one I saw had been disguised as a guard." He bit his lip. "I wish to...I don't know anything like as much as I should about these were-creatures."
"Can you help then? The more you appear to be acting for the good of Keoland, the more Veshper will be well disposed towards you. Do you know anything of were-rats? Do you have any clerical knowledge of what sort of gate they would be thinking of constructing? Or even who'd know more about such gates?"
"In terms of proof then," Kyros asked, "can we bring in one of these wererats? I've encountered them before. Nasty buggers. The Mareschal could have a field day interrogating one. And if something as important as a gate were being built, you can be sure they won't abandon the plan over the loss of one rat. For starters, show Veshper the fake gold samples we've got, and tell him about what happened in Garrisfurd. I trust the man. He's a good man. He believes that we, and that includes myself, are working for the Lord High Mareschal. I think I need to show him how urgent and crucial the situation is."
"We'll need to dig out more information about 'gates'. I've seen them in operation in Aerdy. Maybe the materials used, jade and jet you say, might indicate the kind of gate being created. The worst-case scenario is the invasion of Grasdul by the Scarlet ones, probably with monsters and other foul creatures." Kyros looked grim.
"I was afraid you were going to say something like that about the gate." Akhan pulled a long face. "I guess we keep an eye out for shipments of jade and jet then."
"As for help from Veshper...yes, he told me he was willing to help - but only if we've got stronger proofs of the plot and the main conspirators. I dare say I could arrange some sort of understanding with him. For instance - if we need reinforcements if we're forced to confront the Brotherhood. I could ask that he be ready to provide some of his men." Akhan shrugged. "I suspect he'd be ready for anything anyway. He looks the type. I'll speak with him before I leave - if I can - and ask that he bear it in mind."
"You say you have an advocate? Good. I shall be present for the hearing if I can. Either myself or Eloi at any rate. If my testimony means anything then I will speak for you."
"Hopefully this is the right thing to do. As opposed to fighting Halstus, and his men, and the Mareschal, and hightailing out of Gradsul forever." Kyros still didn't seem entirely convinced as he spoke his thoughts out loud. He was more used to running than staying. Maybe the King will give him a barony for services rendered to the crown, he thought idly to himself, and suppressed a snort, while Akhan looked on, bemused.
"I think I must leave now. Eloi and the others are scattered who-knows-where throught the city and I have to catch up with them. Apart from the clothes then is there anything you wish me to do?"
"That's about it. Be conservative - I've seen your taste in clothes."Kyros laughed. "We'll see what happens tomorrow. I need to catch up on my sleep. My back is killing me." Kyros made light of the wound inflicted by the lightning javelin and settled back on the platform.
"Oh I don't know- caged birds are often the ones with the brightest plumage." Akhan said and managed a wry smile. I'll go and make my arrangements with the Mareschal now," he said and banged on the cell door to attract the guard's attention.

Smokelight wandered off, and Eloi could tell that he was bored with all the hanging around they had been doing. Nevermind, Eloi thought, hopefully we're getting closer to some real action.
Slowly he wandered back into the street, and down towards the warehouse. He had to stick to the buildings at the far side, as the guard who had stoned him was still hanging about the warehouse door. Eloi smiled as he glanced down at himself - as usual his shadow armour was doing a fine job, and he was sure that he had not been seen.
He quickly surmised that the doorway in which Smokelight had hidden himself was the best cover he could hope for, which pleased him in a way - at least he knew the old mage had some sense for these things. He was not, however, happy with the view he gained - it was an oblique angle, and he could see nothing of the inside of the warehouse.
With a quick glance about the guard delved into his pocket and removed a thin, finger-like object, placing it into his mouth. He then took a tinderbox and lit the end of the object, which glowed red as he sucked on it. The guard, replacing the tinderbox in his pocket, then puffed out smoke rings like the archaic mage.
There was now no other activity or noise from within the warehouse.
In a minute, Smokelight was back in Harber Stratz, and quickly found an ideal position in a doorway looking onto the office door. There were no windows, but the door was closed and there seemed to be no activity within.
Smokelight settled down to a long wait - all this spying stuff was not quite as it was cracked up to be. Melf's tales of intrigue and derring-do paled his experiences into significance, and he was thinking of a change in career - perhaps a fisher man, or a scribe, something with a bit more excitement.Smokelight had been waiting there only ten minutes when he saw light within the office, from about the doorframe leading outside.
Around the corner, Eloi gave a shiver as he sat, waiting. He had been there but five minutes,and it was not unusually cold, but he was not well-dressed for loitering about in this early summer night, and it was getting colder. The man finished smoking his 'finger' and went back inside, out of Eloi's sight. Eloi was keen to find out waht was going on. He moved around to Smokelight's position hugging the eaves overhanging the buildings.
Eloi pointed to the warehouse.
"How many men would you estimate are inside? Perhaps we should be taking a closer look at the interior of the warehouse. We could gain entry via theoffice door. What do you think?"
"The light is coming from within the office, so I'd think they would see us walking in the office door," Smokelight whispered, looking at Eloi sideways. "But perhaps we could creep up close enough to office door to see if we can see or hear anything."
As they started to walk over, Eloi stopped dead in his tracks. Smokelight watched, puzzled as the Baron sniffed the air.
"Smoke?!" he said, in a questioning fashion, turning to his colleague. "Do you smell smoke?"
Smokelight drew air through his nostrils, then shook his head.
"Truth is, I don't smell much these days, through the systematic desensitisation of that sense by smokeweed and cheap brandy," he declared, as if proud of his achievement.
Eloi looked around, then pointed east, towards the docks. Their view was blocked by nearby buildings, but there was a definite amber glow, like a great bonfire, coming from towards the docks.

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